


Heaven's Light

by emeralddarkness



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, First Meeting, Lots of other valar mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1988472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeralddarkness/pseuds/emeralddarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is somewhere she needs to be, and the Music pulls at her bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven's Light

Melian can feel the strings of destiny thrumming under her fingertips and feet, weaving all around her in the Music that still runs as an undercurrent through all of reality. The wind whispering through the trees murmurs new refrains. Something that always had been changed, in the song, is finally changing in the world, and she can feel the new/old melody of it pulling at her heart.

She is not the only one who feels the shift. Vána can also feel it, and comes up on her little dancing feet to give Melian a blessing of new life before she is drawn away by it. Flowers spring open in her wake like a vast train to roll back into the distance – as she steps close they sweep around Melian as well. A lily curls out of the earth and grows almost to her height before opening like a silver trumpet. A thrush sings as shy new leaves unfurl in the tree the bird is perched in, and as Vána curls up at its trunk a young rabbit edges closer and carefully settles itself in her lap, wide-eyed and trembling. Its eyes are very bright.

“It seems that everyone is going to leave me at once,” she says in her high, sweet voice as her hand smooths the rabbit’s ears. It presses itself closer into her lap for a moment before jackknifing free and darting into the trees again. Vána looks after it, but does not move. “Bid Oromë hasten his return, should you meet.”

Estë does not speak, but kisses her brow. Her veil and lips are soft as flower petals against the skin that Melian had wrought. She can feel it still as she curls into the pollen of Vána’s flowers, as she is carried across the sea on Manwë’s wind. From that mark seeps peace and rest and quiet so profound that Melian wants to sink into the earth and sleep as a bulb instead of springing to life as a new-made flower even when she has reached the other side of the ocean, and if not for the Music thrumming ever louder in her bones she could have done so.

It is dark without the light of the Trees, and only Varda’s stars high above her. She looks at them as she unfolds herself in the silence and walks into the forest, and models herself after the sky. Her hair is dark as heaven and long enough to sweep the ground behind her, her robe is pale and shining as the stars, and all around her birds gather and sing as the leaves of the trees tremble and the flowers turn shyly towards her. The trees lean close to whisper their secrets, although Melian cannot understand them so well as certain of her kin. There are strangers here, they whisper, and the aspens quiver in excitement. The children, they had been told. Her heart skips a beat at the news, for she had not known they were here. She runs forward under the shadows and the stars, as lightly as a deer, until a thing that shines like starlight on the water is in front of her.

It was hair, she saw as she stepped closer, bright and shining silver, on the head of…. Him. One of the children. Elf. She cannot move for wonder.

This is what – this is who – she has been called to see, or had always been with. This. He. And _that_ , of everything, is utterly impossible to doubt as she becomes lost in the universes of his eyes, as the stars spin overhead. Those don't matter anymore, not _here_.


End file.
